Getting home
by Danielle.Higgins.84
Summary: Just a one shot from the first person view of an OC. adult turtles based off 2014 movie. Oc trying to get what she needs and get home but some impulsive choices leave her needing help and trying to wrap her head around all she had encountered. (better than it sounds. kind of hard to write a summery on a short story without giving everything away)


"Getting home"

I walk in, pushing my way past the large men that stood in the door way, though most men are large to me, as I only stand a whopping 5' 3". Gray smoke drifting from their mouths as they spoke. One was smoking Marlboro menthols, the other…Camels, Turkish gold. I could tell by the sweet under tones in the scent. It makes my mouth water for it. I considered bumming one. It had been a week since my last. My stomach growls, however, reminding me why I was here.

So onward I push, the cigarettes being replaced by the smell of sweat and blood. Cheers periodically fill the air as flesh met flesh in a makeshift ring. I don't want to be here. I don't want to fight but I will not sell myself on a street corner. I just can't bring myself to do it. So, ignoring the fighters I make my way around and through the crowd looking for "The guy." You know, the one that takes the bets. I can't just place a bet though. I can't afford to walk away with nothing. If I step into that ring and loose, at least I still walk away with enough to get some food, I hope. But I need to win. So much depends on it. But first things first.

As I walk by a man, that dwarfed the men at the door. I slip my hand into the pocket of his leather jacket as I walk by, pulling out my prize. A small role of cash. If he noticed he didn't stop me, that or I am surprisingly that good. I am normally above stealing, but I am desperate.

I suppose I could have walked away with what was in my hand. It would have gotten me what I needed. But if I could double it… that would take care of more than one problem, which is an opportunity I can't miss.

After stating my business to "the guy" I hand over the money. He looks me over and laughs as he points me to where the fighters wait. Can't say he was reinforcing my confidence.

Pulling the hood of my sweater up I sit among them. I don't look around. I don't want lose my nerve by facing what I am up against before I have even stepped into the ring.

I sit and focus on my breathing, drowning out the sounds of the room, pushing down the fear and worry, trying to desperately find some sort of center.

A sharp tug at my shoulder pulls my attention.

"You're up." The man was skinny with too many tattoos and too many piercings. Mentally picking him apart was not going to help me though.

I take a deep breath, stand, pull off my sweater, and step into the ring. My long hair brushed against my back as it swung in its pony tail. My palms becoming sweaty, as my heart starts to race.

"Stay calm." I whisper.

A man climbs into the ring. Dear God He is at minimum twice my size. A deep scar runs along his cheek and his eyes are the most devilish green.

This was a big mistake. I swallow hard as I push back the tears that are welling in my eyes, and I remind myself, once again, why I am here.

A bell rings and the ground shakes as the man charges me.

I don't think. I don't have time. I duck. I can feel the air move as his fist brushes past my cheek.

I am not so quick as to dodge the next blow however and it lands squarely in my gut. He then strikes my face and my whole world implodes in blinding painful white.

"One!"

Is someone… counting?

"Two!"

I groan as I turn over. As I move the room fills with shouts.

"Three."

I push myself up to my hands and knees. God I hurt!

"Four!"

I look out at the crowd and I see him. Standing a good foot above them all, the man in the leather coat. I cannot see his face, his hood is pulled to low. But I can feel him staring at me…no, into me.

"Five!"

He knows. Why did he let me go?

"Six!"

He points up, and I move to my knees.

The counting stops and the ground begins to shake again. I don't think I can take another hit like that last one. But I can't fail, I can't.

I spin myself around on my right knee kicking up with my left leg. My foot makes solid contact with my opponent's lower gut, and he looks down on me in surprise.

I don't miss a step. I bring my other foot up into his face while he is still doubled over.

He stumbles back and I right myself. I bring my fist down to connect with the back of his jaw. There is a popping sound and the man cries out. Holding his jaw he crawls away from me.

It was a lucky hit.

Every one stairs at me, they are as shocked as I am. The room is filled with angry shouts as I leave the ring. Some even spit on me. Apparently I wasn't who they were betting on.

I pull my sweater back on and make my way back to "The guy" to collect my winnings.

He points me to a set of stairs that lead to an office of sorts.

Inside there are three men, two standing on either side of a man sitting at a desk. On the desk are stacks of money and a paper weight. I consider the paper weight for a moment as I work to keep my nerve. It is one of those ones that are made of resin and have an insect or something inside. This one has a big black scorpion.

"What do you want?" The man at the desk asks me.

"My winnings. I beat…"

"I know what you did." The man snaps making me jump. "Get the fuck outa here."

"What?" I give him a confused look. I can't just leave, not without my money.

He leans on the desk and scowls at me. "Get the FUCK outa here!"

I don't know how to handle these guys. And I didn't come here to start a war.

I start to turn.

"Dumb bitch." I hear him say.

I am not sure if it was the insult or my hunger, but something in me snapped. I spun around grabbing the paper weight off the desk and threw it. As it sailed through the air I found myself enjoying the irony that it was a scorpion with in the resin, because it was going to sting when it hit his face.

I don't wait for it to land. I don't have time to get that satisfaction. I reach out and grab a stack of the bills. Perhaps a bit more than I am owed, but I don't have time to count it. I run, so grateful that I hadn't closed the door. I slide down half the steps as I stuff the money into my sweater pocket then disappear into the sea of men that yelled at the ring.

I don't look back. I don't dare.

Throwing myself at the door I stumble out into the alley.

I am shaking all over and my world is spinning as all my nerves fire off at once. No longer able to hold it together I vomit, steadying myself against the wall.

I hear the door open behind me and my stomach drops.

Run! My mind screams. So I try.

I only make it a few steps before something hits me hard in the back sending me sprawling to the ground.

I cover my head and prepare for the blows that are about to rain down on me. But they don't come.

I can hear a struggle. That flesh on flesh sound again then the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground.

I look up and there he is again, looking down at me. The man in the leather jacket, his hood still giving no clue as to his identity.

He offers out a gloved hand, apprehensively I take it and he pulls me to my feet.

After I steady myself he holds out his hand again.

"You have something that belongs to me." His voice was a low rumble almost a growl.

Not wanting to get hit anymore tonight I take some of the money that is in my pocket and hand it to him.

I notice, as he counts the money, that his gloves are three fingered. Strange, I've never seen gloves like those before.

He hands me back a couple of bills and walks toward the mouth of the alley and I suddenly feel very vulnerable. Quickly I hurry after the man.

"Wait."

He stops.

"Where are you going?" I just don't want to be alone against the world any more tonight. I want to feel like someone has my back, even if it is only pretend.

He regards me for a moment then sighs. "To get drunk. You wanting to come?"

I shouldn't. "Yes."

I should get home. But that world is so heavy. 'God, give me just a little bit of time.' I pray.

With guilt ridden steps I quietly follow the stranger in leather down a few streets where he enters a small bar.

It's a dive. Half the lights don't work and it smells of only the devil knows what.

The man I leather orders a couple of beers and leads me to a table in a dark corner. He hands me one of the beers and sits down.

I don't normally drink beer. I don't normally drink at all. But I don't want to be rude so I take a slow sip.

"You need to lay low for a bit. And I don't mean for the next hour or so." He tells me.

I nod and take another sip. Only one, I tell myself. It was a false hope.

I don't know how many beers later I find myself laughing at I don't know what. The man's arm is around my shoulders as his deep chuckles come out in waves. It's a warming sound that makes me tingle with the desire to reach out and touch him… or was that the alcohol? I can't be sure.

He turns and waves at the bar tender for another round. I am already shaking my head and he starts to laugh at me.

"That's what you said an hour ago, Angel." His voice sounds happy and I smile, though I don't remember telling him my name.

His hood still cover's his head and in the darkness of this corner I can't even make out an outline of his face. But I find I want to taste him anyways.

I sway a little then, kneeling on my chair, I dive into the darkness of his hood finding his wide lips there. His response is like striking a match and watching it burst into flames.

I can taste the beer on his lips and that was all for the alcohol had washed away any traces of anything else. His tongue found mine and my world broke into pieces.

One minute we were kissing, then we were drinking, then we were running, then we were kissing again. My back pressed up against the cold brick wall till he hauled me up against him and he growled as our hands roved over each other hungrily.

Pushing back a heavy door he lead me into, what I believe is, his home. His mouth never leaves mine as we stumble across a vast room and into a smaller one. He slams the door closed behind him.

The room is pitch black, there are no windows here. I should be terrified, but fear is the farthest thing from my mind as we continue our dizzying dance to his bed.

Something yells at me in the back of my mind. But I am too drunk and too light up to care. And there in the dark, in great lustful procession, I give away what I had refused to sell.

I don't know how long I slept. But with the head ach that is splitting my head I know I have done more and been away from home much longer than planned.

Listening to the man next me breathing deeply I slowly rolled to the edge of the bed and slid off. Crawling around in the dark I find most of my clothing, minus my bra and one sock.

I freeze when the man in the bed roles over making the bed springs complain though not as vehemently as they had the night before.

I take a couple of slow deep breaths as I wait for him to settle. I don't want to wake him. I don't want to face all my choices from the night before. So, I quietly get dressed, check my sweater pocket for the money and find the bedroom door. The handle clicks quietly as I turn it.

Walking through the door way I am greeted by too much light, which doesn't help my head ache.

My eyes adjust and then widened. I don't know how to wrap my head around what I am seeing. They are staring back at me, through masks that make no sense because they hid nothing of what these… creatures are, and I am frozen in place. I have forgotten how to breathe, or blink.

"Who are you?" The one in blue asks. He is standing by a kitchen.

I don't answer. Instead I look around at the others.

The one wearing a purple mask is sitting at the table a cup of coffee steaming up his glasses.

The one in orange smiles softly at me from a couch. "You look like you had a rough night. Raph didn't do that to you did he?"

"Raph?" I finally find my voice.

The one in blue furrows his brow as if he is trying to figure out how to proceed. The expression turns into a scowl as his attention shifts behind me.

I am honestly afraid to turn and look at what stands behind me, the one that I had been wrapped around the night before. I could just make out his bulky form that was leaning against the door frame in my peripheral.

I can feel the tension between him and the one in blue.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" The one in blue broke the silence first. His voice not near as gentile as it had been when he asked my name.

"You don't get a fucking play by play, Leo!" The one behind me shouts.

I am suddenly feeling as if I am between two bulls ready to charge at each other. I eye the door and wonder if I can get to it, if I can even open it, it is massive and heavy looking. I have to try. I have to get home, I have been gone far too long.

Ignoring the escalating shouts I walk quickly toward the heavy door.

The one in purple is now giving his coffee more attention than it deserves, possibly in an attempt to ignore the two that were shouting at each other behind me. The one on the couch, however, watches me as I walk. I pray he doesn't try to stop me. It is taking everything in me not to run as my gut tightens and my legs begin to shake.

I pull at the heavy door but it doesn't budge. Tears sting my eyes as I try to pull the door again. I have to get home.

"Can you keep us a secret?" His voice is soft as he speaks. The one in orange takes a couple steps back, and offers a reassuring smile when I turn to look at him.

I look beyond him where the others had stopped fighting to wait for my answer. And for the first time I saw the face of the man in the leather jacket. Everything about him is rigid and hard, from the muscles in his calves to set of his jaw. Everything but his eyes, they are bright and burning like some golden sun. And I know now why I had felt as if he had been looking into me every time he had looked my way the night before.

Swallowing I remind myself that he had helped me when others meant me harm. So, I look back at the one in orange and give a slow nod. "I don't think anyone would believe me anyway."

The one in orange looks back at the one in blue, who heaves a great sigh but nods.

The one in orange reaches out and opens the door. "Take the first ladder up. It will get you to the surface."

"Thank you." I say quietly then I turn and hurry out.

I have no doubt one or all are following me. I can feel them watching.

I push the heavy sewer lid out of my way and crawl up to the alley. I am shocked to see how late in the morning it is, and I break into a run the moment my feet hit the pavement. I have to get home.

I make only one stop on the way. A grocery store. I can only grab what I can carry but I need so much more. It can wait. I need to get home.

Again I am running. My chest burns and my head reals as I try to make sense of everything. I push my way through the broken door to the building I live in. I run up the stairs till my calves won't push any more. Reaching my door I sag against it as I take in air in great gulps. I swallow to wet my dry throat as I fumble with my keys. I unlock the door and slowly push it open hoping they aren't awake yet.

I don't have such luck. So, I great my daughters with a smile when I enter the small apartment, locking the door behind me.

"Mom. Your back!" My oldest smiles as she hurries over to get the groceries from me. She is 11 and so mature for her age. "Your face is bruised. What happened?"

"I fell honey." I try to give her a smile. "Nothing to worry about."

"What did you get?" My youngest who is nine asks as she peeks into the bags. She pulls out a box of eggs and begins to do her silly happy dance. "Can we have them scrambled, mom?"

"Yes." I smile and hope the power company hadn't turned off the electricity yet.

As I cook I worry about them. I worry about how I am going to get a job if I can't get child care, the waiting list for help is so long, and I don't know where their father is or why he left.

The risk I took leaving them here alone was so great. I should not have stayed out there are obvious reasons beyond money as to why I don't usually drink. And what if the one that wore the leather coat had not helped me when he did?

I give each of my daughters a portion of the eggs and ignore my own growling stomach as I smile at them while they eat.

Running my fingers over the cash in my pocket I know things are going to be alright, at least for a little while.

I owe him my world, and instead of thanking him I ran. The shame I had felt when I had realized what I had lain with was slowly replaced with regret. Perhaps someday I will get a chance to thank him, properly. Perhaps.

The end


End file.
